Ghosts of the Old Sycamore
by Bree
Summary: In which Draco (and Harry) encourage ghost stories.


Disclaimer: This story is inspired by one of Celia H. Mile's works and based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

Author's Note: Are you squicked by male/male relationships? Do you not feel the intense Unresolved Sexual Tension between Harry and Draco? Are you a close-minded Troll flames more than an angry Blast-Ended Skrewt?  If you answered 'yes' to any of the previous questions, then this ficlet is not for you. If you answered 'no', then feel free to read and review!

  
  
Every first year student's heard the tale. "Is it true that the sycamore tree at Hogwarts is haunted?" they whisper excitedly among themselves. "I heard the ghost is worse than Peeves!" "Well _I_ heard that the ghost serves You-Know-Who!" "That's nothing! Someone told me that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could actually **be** the ghost!"   
  
The teachers refused to acknowledge that such a rumor existed, and the ghosts of the school claimed to have no knowledge of specters haunting the tree but still...   
  
Ravenclaws, who live life by the book, staunchly assure themselves and their housemates that such if the tree was haunted it would surely appear Hogwarts, a History and since there is no mention of things supernatural involving the sycamore in said book the tale must have been fabricated by the older Slytherin students in order to scare them. Nevertheless, the Ravenclaws stayed away from the old sycamore tree.   
  
Hufflepuffs girls giggle nervously at any mention of the tale and the Hufflepuff boys turn pale. After all, hadn't Susie heard it from Jake, who learned it from Dan, who was informed by Mary, who swore she saw a shadowy and silvery figure by the tree last week and heard moaning and groaning? Needless to say, the Hufflepuffs avoided the old sycamore tree.   
  
The Slytherins were doubtful. After all, wasn't it the Hufflepuff's job to still be afraid of ghost stories? But Draco Malfoy, a sixth year Slytherin, had hinted that there was some truth to the tale and what Draco Malfoy said was law! So if the first year Slytherins avoided the old sycamore tree it was just because they were observing the code of proper social hierarchy (at least that's what they told themselves).   
  
The Gryffindor boys viewed the tree as a dare spot. They were always daring each other to visit the tree after dark, and to prove they'd been there, leave an item so it could be checked the next day. Not items of any value of course, just a quill or something of equal insignificance, because who wanted to risk a perfectly good box of jellybeans? But it was a fact that things left at the tree's base did mysteriously disappear.   
  
  
Draco had his silver sheet wrapped around himself; there was no point in freezing to death. He studied at the giant sycamore tree- an impressive sight in the moonlight, its trunk knotty and moldy-looking.

Suddenly, every sound seemed magnified… the distinct sound of heaving breathing. Fireflies fluttered around like an errant constellation.   
  
"You're late," he said simply, into the night.   
  
Suddenly, a head materialized besides him.   
  
"Maybe you're early," Harry's head said.   
  
"I am a Malfoy, even time obeys my will," Draco answered snootily.   
  
Harry's head nodded solemnly. "Even love seems to obey you will," he said dryly. "You have every charm in the word."   
  
Draco looked at the seemingly floating head and smirked. "Well, I was born under a lucky star you know."   
  
"You're going out with me. I'd say you were born under a constellation of lucky stars. Are you done with your ego trip? Can we go now?" Harry shivered.   
  
Draco smiled sardonically, nodded his assent, and joined Harry under his invisibility cloak.   
  
  
There was a new twist to the sycamore tree ghost legend. It seems someone (who wished to remain anonymous) - having quite a bit to drink- swore he saw only a white shrouded ghost, but also a floating head! Now the Gryffindor boys had a pair of spirits to dare each other.


End file.
